


Blood of the Father

by zsomeone



Category: Metalocalypse
Genre: Child Abuse, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-08-07
Updated: 2010-08-07
Packaged: 2018-03-16 21:17:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3503084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zsomeone/pseuds/zsomeone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Young Toki tries to save himself in a very misinformed way.  Flashes back and forth to modern day.<br/>Warnings: Misuse of religious stuff, child abuse</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blood of the Father

He’d taken Communion as long as he could remember, and knew the ritual by heart. His father’s voice invoking, the coolness of the cup held to his lips. Only the tiniest of sips, and then it was withdrawn.  
It was as if Father knew he was beyond saving, and wouldn’t waste the precious Blood on his son. Why? If it was the thing that might save him?

More and more he’d heard them talking about him, when they thought he couldn’t hear. Or maybe they knew, and didn’t care anymore? About how he was hopeless, lost, somehow just wrong.  
He didn’t want to be wrong! Toki prayed, even though he never got an answer. What further proof did he need that he was not truly God’s child?

He’d thought of the plan almost a year ago, but hadn’t been able to work up the courage to try. The Blood was forgiveness, Devine. What would happen if he could drink enough of it? Would it finally save him?  
The footsteps below had long since ceased, his parents were asleep.  
Did he dare?

Toki was still awake, staring out his window. There was no snow yet, but that would change very soon. And once the snows fell, he would be unable to make the trip undetected and would have to wait through the long cold season.  
And then what? Surely it would be too late, if it wasn’t already.  
It had to be now.

Moving barefoot for silence, Toki crept down the stairs and out the door. He knew where all the squeaks in the floors were, and had missed every one.  
Outside, alone, at night.  
Daring not to waste any time, he hurried across to the church, slipping inside.  
It was dark, but he knew the layout as well as his own home. The alter lay ahead, the Blood stored below it.

With shaking hands, he drew back the cloth and grasped a bottle. Should he drink it here? Probably?  
With a prayer that was more of a plea, Toki opened the bottle and took a big sip. Was that enough? Was he saved now?  
Deciding he’d better make sure, he drank some more. God’s Blood, flowing into his body, cleansing him.

He waited, sitting by the alter in the dark. He felt lighter, as if some weight had been lifted from him. It was working!  
Toki kept drinking, feeling lighter and lighter. He felt like crying.  
So _this_ was what it felt like to be saved, why had his father denied him all these years? Drink the Blood, feel your sins lift away...

All at once, he didn’t feel so good.  
Toki shoved the bottle back in place and fled from the church, desperate to make it outside before he was sick.  
He made it, but just barely, staggering into the bushes and puking up everything he’d drank. The lightness was gone, come crashing back down on him. Heaven had rejected him, _this_ was what Father had been hiding.  
But now he knew.

****

Toki flushed his toilet. He knew better than to drink that much but sometimes he just did it anyway. Usually only when they had to do public stuff, like tonight, that shit always made him nervous.  
Why was he thinking about the past anyway? There was nothing good there for him.  
He rinsed his mouth and went to lay on his bed.

How stupid he’d been, that first time he’d gotten drunk. Mistaking the alcohol for something holy, thinking it actually _meant_ something.  
And when he was older, drinking on his own. They called it the Devil’s drink, but he’d puked from that too. Neither side wanted Toki, which was fine because he no longer wanted anything to do with them!

The room was a little unstable, but he was pretty sure he wouldn’t puke again.  
What was that joke Nathan had made once? Oh yeah, “Heaven doesn’t want me and Hell’s afraid I’ll take over.” That was why Dethklok were all Nihilists. Fuck the “afterlife”, what about _this_ life?  
Be miserable, never do anything fun, and you’ll get a fucking halo. That’s basically what he had been raised to believe. Fuck that.

But it was funny how the past came back to you, no matter how far away you’d run.   
He didn’t even know why he was thinking about this, but once started, he couldn’t seem to stop. Father, who he’d tried so hard to please and always failed. Mother, who only watched in silence.  
Somewhere deep inside, he was still that scared boy who snuck out in a desperate attempt to save himself.

****

The hadn’t found out, which was some sort of miracle on it’s own.  
He’d somehow managed to get home and back to his room, sick with the knowledge that what he was feeling wasn’t Holy at all.  
They would know, know what he’d done. There would be no forgiveness for him, ever again. If there even ever had been? It may have just been an illusion.  
He crawled into his spinning bed and passed out.

Toki was shaken roughly awake, he was late for chores.  
Still feeling sick, half from the Blood and half from fear, he’d gotten up and hurried the best he could. His head ached terribly.  
He’d puked again, behind the barn and fortunately unseen. Not much came up, but what did burned terribly. Another sign that he was truly evil?  
Fortunately, they liked him quiet and subdued.

****

Why couldn’t he just go to sleep already? The past was over, it couldn’t reach him anymore.  
Yet it could, always waiting for an opening. Toki reached out with one hand, groping for his bear. He found the furry body and dragged it close, pressing his face into it’s slightly musty side and letting the tears come.  
No one would know.

He knew he was safe here, but he cried for his former self, so scared and so very alone. Sometimes he just had to let it out.  
He used to ask why, why these things had happened to him? But there were no answers, just a reality that was both reassuring and completely heartless.  
Not caring... it was more then a rule. It was what made it all bearable.

His parents stared disapprovingly from the photos on the wall, judging him even in their absence.  
Toki rolled over, turning away.  
They would send someone, most likely a gear, to check on him. They knew how drunk he’d been. He didn’t want them to see him like this, not even a faceless gear. No one.  
All he wanted was to sleep, to not think anymore!

He had some weed, but rejected that thought as soon as it crossed his mind.  
He was too drunk for that shit, if he smoked now he wouldn’t make it off the bathroom floor for the rest of the night. He’s made that mistake _once_ , despite being warned.  
Follow the thoughts, since pushing them aside wasn’t working.  
Follow them all the way down.

****

The animals had died a week later.  
Not all of them of course, but several of their goats. Some virus, but Father had declared that Toki was at fault, and Toki believed him. Apologized, but it was hopeless.  
Shackled in the basement, punished. For his sins.  
He knew it had been wrong, to try to save himself. He couldn’t be saved.  
Two days later, they had released him. He hadn’t expected to ever see the sun again.

The next Communion, he’d been terrified.   
What if it happened again? What if he sipped the wine and was sick in front of them all? Then they would all know.  
But it hadn’t happened, _nothing_ had happened.  
If he was not to be punished, maybe God had given up on him?

****

Sleep, why couldn’t he just sleep?  
Sometimes that was the only escape there was, when alcohol failed him. His father was dead anyway, never again to beat him. Even after he’d gotten big enough to fight back, he never had.  
They’d thought they were doing the right thing, that was the hardest part. Everything they’d ever done to him was because they cared.  
Caring sucked.

Skwisgaar was the one who told them all about Nihilism, and Toki had been the first to embrace it too.  
Nothing matters, don’t care, live your fucking life. And if nothing came afterwards, so what?  
Tears over, Toki lay curled on his side, face still against his bear.  
The door opened, light spilling in. Too bright, he flinched away from it. Satisfied that he was alive, the light retreated as the door was again closed.

Toki lay, no longer thinking, and waited to sleep.  
The room had stabilized, for the most part. That was good, it was impossible to got to sleep with it moving around, it just made him feel like he needed to hold on to things.  
To not fall off... the world.  
So dark, so quiet, so still.  
He finally slept.


End file.
